


Subtly

by rosepetaled



Category: CollegeHumor
Genre: Death, Gun Violence, M/M, Male Friendship, Spying, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetaled/pseuds/rosepetaled
Summary: Grant is in the middle of a mission when he organises his next date with Jordan, and he's set on taking the blond to a fancy restaurant. Zac takes to Instagram to figure out where the new couple should go exactly. What are bros for?





	Subtly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liviania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviania/gifts).



> Hi there Liviania!
> 
> This is me doing my best to be funny, haha, so I hope you like this! Also, I hope the tags don't freak you out, nothing happens to Grant, Zac, or Jordan!

Grant had been busy staring at the book in his hands when _he_ walked in. Some guy called Viktor, tall and bald with his hands stuffed in his pockets, trying to look inconspicuous but failing terribly. Grant could feel his gun pressed against his side, sitting there comfortably and in perfect position for him to reach out and grab when needed.

            “Bro, you there?” muttered Grant lowly, glove covered finger pressed against his ear piece. “This is an emergency. You there? Bro? Hello?”

            “I’m here, I’m here,” Zac spoke up. “What happened? You lose the guy?”

            “What, no?” Grant snorted at the idea, looking out the window for a quick second and taking in the darkness of the night. “Don’t be silly. I need you to check out Jordan’s Instagram page again.”

            “Why? You guys already went out for that bourbon last week. I thought things were good?”

            “Things are great, but I can’t just take him out for drinks all the time. Jordan’s classy as _fuck_. We need a fancy restaurant. Something expensive. Not too expensive so it looks like I’m showing off. But expensive enough-”

            Zac sighed loudly before cutting Grant off. “I got it, I got it. You want me to check out his Insta and see what food he likes?”

“Bingo. Read my mind, bro,” smiled Grant, his eyes still stuck on the bald man. Grant had been given information earlier to head over to a coffee shop and wait for Viktor – a man who had been working with Mikhail’s team for a few years now. Zac had sent over a photo of Viktor earlier in the night.

While Grant didn’t mind waiting patiently to take out the spy, he was also horribly occupied with other thoughts. He was a busy man and had become even busier with the addition of Jordan to his life. They had only been on one date, but it was a date far too magical for Grant to ignore. He needed to see more of Jordan, needed to see those blond, neatly swept locks again.

            “Alright, gimme a sec,” muttered Zac. “I’m seeing a lot of Italian food.”

            “He has such good taste,” sighed Grant.

“But he also has a huge thing for Burger King.”

            “… I can forgive him for that.”

            “But I’m seeing plenty of pasta. And garlic bread. Looks like Italian is his favourite?”

            Grant could hear the distinct sound of Zac chowing down on potato chips, the crunching noises filling up his ears as Viktor grabbed his coffee and left. Grant counted to five before tucking the book under his arm, exiting the coffee shop swiftly, eyes on the back of Viktor’s head. The bald man was heading down the street, taking small sips of his drink as he walked. Grant tilted his head as he analysed his surroundings: not too many lights on, only a couple cars parked on the street, and no one else walking around except for _him_. Perfect.

            “Amazing,” Grant replied. He had no doubt he could take out Viktor in a second with complete and total ease, and Grant knew the conversation he was having with Zac wouldn’t look all that suspicious. He knew no one would suspect him of doing anything strange – his bright eyes and wide, warm smile were too good at luring people in, so he kept on talking, his phone pressed to his ear like he was in the middle of a call. “Can you look up some nice Italian restaurants? Ooh, one that has violin players!”

            “Is that a thing? People do that? Or are you just stealing ideas from movies?” Zac chuckled.

            “Fine, whatever. Can you find a place with candles? I want something sweet and romantic. Not _too_ romantic, though. I don’t wanna send him running.”

            “Lemme take a look... There’s a nice Italian restaurant like, twenty minutes from your place,” explained Zac. “According to the reviews they’ve got great lasagne.”

            “Hm, you see any lasagne on his Insta?” asked Grant, his eyes still straight ahead of him. Victor carried walking, still taking small sips, one hand tucked into his pocket. Grant’s eyes darted over to his left for a second, spotting an alleyway wedged in between two closed restaurants. Perfect. He sped up, making sure his feet were quiet, his voice quiet as he continued speaking. “Is he a fan?”

            “Checking, checking, checking… Ah! Yes, lasagne. He’s got three posts about it. He seems kinda obsessive,” muttered Zac. “His latest lasagne post says this: Third one I’ve made this week. Can’t get enough. Hashtag carb addiction… Dude’s got a problem.”

            Grant pouted at the thought of Jordan in the kitchen, blonde hair all tussled, skin covered in patches of flour as he made his own pasta. That sounded like an amazing date, and Grant’s heart skipped a beat at the image of the two of them in his kitchen, hands all tangled up as they fed each other sauce.

            “Oh, he’s so cute,” Grant sighed. “That restaurant sounds perfect then! What’s the dessert situation? What’s Jordan into? He gives me red velvet cake vibes.”

Grant ducked his free hand down to trace over his gun, heart beating fast, but only because he was thinking about Jordan. He was more than ready to kill Viktor. He sped up a little more, the alleyway getting closer, with Viktor only a metre or two away from it.

“Oh, right, dessert. Gimme one second,” murmured Zac, his fingers fast as he typed away.

Nodding to himself Grant suddenly ran, shoving his phone into his pocket and wrapping his arms around the bald man’s body once he was close enough. With one hand firmly placed on Viktor’s mouth he shoved the spy into the alleyway, the taller man against the wall as Grant reached for his gun.

“What’s the deal? Does he like red velvet?” wondered Grant, gun against the spy’s head, pulling the trigger when Zac spoke up again. The silencer made sure no one could hear a thing.

“Hm. I’m not finding many dessert posts on his Insta...”

“Oh God, is he one of those?” muttered Grant, gun back in place as he brushed his suit off. “If he’s one of those then I don’t know what I’ll do. What if we can’t make cake together? Zac, if we can’t make cake together then I’m gonna scream.”

“Calm down, calm down. Oh, look, I found…  A photo of carrot cake…”

Grant gasped and pressed himself against the brick wall, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is a sad day.”

“False alarm. I just read the caption. He’s trashing the cake, it’s all good.”

Grant stepped away from the dead body with a sigh of relief, his hand on his chest as his eyes scanned the street. It was empty just like he thought, and with one final look at the slumping body of Victor, Grant left the dirty, cold alley way, walking swiftly back to the van parked around the corner. “Thank God. That’s kinda mean of him, though. I gottta work on that with him.

“He seems like he’s got a sweet tooth. He’s got posts about chocolate mousse up, and the restaurant I found earlier serves that.”

“Oh, perfect, perfect. Go ahead and book a table for two next Friday night,” giggled Grant. “It’s gonna be so much fun. Jordan’s gonna love it. Where should I take him after? Oh my God, what about other dates? Check out his YouTube! Does he have any playlists? What songs does he like? Who does he stan? Gaga? Britney? I feel like he loves Britney…”

 Zac let out an obnoxiously loud sigh. “Dude, don’t you want there to be any kind of surprise? You’ll get to find out all that stuff about him on your dates. Don’t you remember what dating was like before 2010?”

Grant couldn’t help but snort. “No. Anyway. Who. Does. He. Like? If it’s Britney then we’re going to have so many amazing Karaoke moments in the future. You can come if you want.”

“I really don’t want anything to do with that. And he’s got a playlist of every Enrique Iglesias song in existence.”

“Ah. Gay.”

“We’ve already established that,” chuckled Zac. “You haven’t given me an update on Viktor. What’s the deal? Everything okay?

“Who? Oh, killed him. Geronimo, by the way,” said Grant with a wave of his hand, the van with Zac inside coming into sight. “I’m sorry, I just wanted as much info I could get my hands on.”

“You’ve gone into full stalker mode,” said Zac with a snort. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m coming in,” Grant warned as he swung open the van door with a soft grunt. “It’s not stalking when _you’re_ doing it. It’s spying. Besides, everyone does that these days. You think blind dates are actually _blind_ in 2018? No, I don’t think so.” Grant yanked the packet of chips from Zac, settling into his seat with a sigh after he shut the van door. After he swallowed a few Doritos he spoke up once again. “What kind of engagement ring do you think Jordan would like?”

“Bro,” Zac groaned, his head in his hands. “If our next mission is like this I’m straight up ditching you and driving away.”

 

 

             

             



End file.
